One Day
by PhantomPenguin
Summary: One day. That was all they had left. Centuries of life, decades of experiences and memories—every minute spent together was now reduced to a mere twenty-four hours.


**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

More musings on Nicholas and Perenelle's relationship. I can't help it-they're just too much fun to write! Please enjoy! Reviews are greatly appreciated (fodder for the starving author, and all that good jazz).

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><p>One day. That was all they had left. Centuries of life together, decades of experiences and memories—every minute spent together was now reduced to a mere twenty-four hours. It seemed like a cruel, compressed fate after so many years together. On those rare occasions that they had discussed death, they had envisioned a willing departure from the world of the living, a mutual decision reached after weariness and a fulfillment of their duties had finally caught up with them.<p>

Instead, they found themselves backed into a corner by the harsh realities of fate. Unable to take the Elixir that sustained their youth, the couple found themselves one day from death, a fraction of time that seemed little more than a minute to ones as long-lived as they.

Nicholas and Perenelle's centuries-long love was now tainted by the ticking of the clock, their demises linked to the doom that had been carved out for them long before the beginning of their immortality.

It seemed absurdly appropriate that their extraordinarily long lives would end this way—one day, spent frantically fighting not for their survival, but for the fate of all the humani. One day to live, one day to save the world.

The time itself wasn't the important part; minutes were minutes, after all, and time would continue on its track long after they were gone. Or, it would if they were successful in stopping Dee. No, what mattered more to them was how that time was spent.

Perenelle glanced into the long mirror, surreptitiously watching Nicholas as he donned some of the twins' father's spare clothes. He looked so frail, so old and worn. Thin face shrunken to the point of gauntness, eyes bagged, once-pitch hair now white as snow—she barely recognized her husband in the frail man who stood before her.

His inner strength remained, however, burning with an unquenchable fire that lit up his pale eyes. The thin back was straight and strong, the weathered hands steady. His knowledge was unparalleled, his spirit indomitable. Regardless of his age, Nicholas remained a force to be reckoned with.

Even so, the combined power of Perenelle's, Sophie's, and Tsagaglalal's auras had only been enough to snatch him back from the brink of death. Now, he stood precariously on the precipice of his demise, a hair's breath away from lurching into oblivion.

Perenelle swore that he would not be alone when the time came. They would die together, or they would not die at all.

Bringing Nicholas back from the dead had been selfish. She could not do this alone, though even she was not certain whether "this" referred to challenging Dee or facing Nicholas's demise. Perenelle needed Nicholas to defeat their adversaries, needed him to stand by her and save the city. She needed to be with him, for she could not die alone.

It seemed poetic, and infinitely more comforting, to share their deaths just as they had shared their lives. They had been inseparable for so long that the idea of even one day without Nicholas was inconceivable to Perenelle. She did not fear death itself, for what was it but the next great adventure? A day alone, without Nicholas by her side—only that would be death.

Perenelle watched her reflection in the mirror, noting the subtle signs of age that normally never had the opportunity to show. The past few days had pushed her beyond her physical and magical limits, draining her of strength and viability that she could ill afford to lose.

Long, lustrous hair now more silver than black, face lined and wan with enough worry and stress for three people-Perenelle was exhausted.

Nicholas followed the path of her gaze and grinned wryly. "I must say, my love, that you age much more gracefully than I do." This was delivered with such a long-suffering air that Perenelle could not help laughing. He looked so mournful, standing behind her and comparing their wrinkles with an obvious air of distaste.

A small snort escaped her, followed by a snicker and finally developing into a full-fledged laugh. After a moment she regained a semblance of calm. She shook her head, a slight grin tugging at her lips. "Here we are at the end of our days,' she said, "and all I can do is laugh about it."

Nicholas shook his head. "If we don't laugh now, "he asked softly, "when will we?"

Their eyes met in the mirror, bright emerald latching on to pale in a gaze that conveyed more than words ever could.

Blinking, Perenelle broke their connection and swung around to look at her husband face to face. They stood for a long moment in silence, no words necessary to convey the thoughts tumbling through their heads.

Each saw the exhaustion in the other, the worry and stark terror that they kept at bay, hidden from the rest of the world, now as plain as day. They were going to die.

"I do not fear our deaths," Perenelle confessed softly, her luminous eyes dimming slightly as they filled with icy tears. "I fear dying in vain. I fear that one day will not be enough, that we will fail—that all will be for naught." She blinked, shattering the barrier that held her emotions at bay. The tears streamed freely down her face, carving icy white rails along skin of nearly the same color.

Nicholas opened his arms wide, an invitation with no audible words; it needed none.

Perenelle all but flung herself into his embrace, hiding her face in his neck as his arms came up to securely encircle her back. "I'm terrified, Nicholas," she confessed, her voice thick with tears. "What if, after all of this—what if it still isn't enough? We've fought so long and so hard to prevent the Dark Elders from winning, and we're one day away from the destruction of the world as we know it. What if we can't win?"

It broke Nicholas's heart to see his wife—the strongest, most powerful person he knew—in such pain. "Then we die," he said calmly, "and events go on without us." He knew it was likely they would not—could not—win against Dee, against the Elders who sought to destroy the humani.

He also refused to believe it.

He traced a pattern across his wife's back. "Either way, Perry, our time is almost up. We will die tomorrow, regardless of whether or not Dee is stopped." His voice hardened, a trace of steel setting into his words. "I, for one, intend to fight as long as there is breath left in my body." He felt Perenelle smile, a slight twitch of the lips that was more than enough to tell him she was in complete agreement.

"This is why I brought you back," she declared, drawing away slightly to give a look full of such pride and admiration that it made his heart ache to look at it.

She felt that strongly about _him_; even after more than five centuries of marriage, it was enough to make his head spin. He laughed softly and drew her back into his embrace. "_This _why you brought me back," he corrected, holding her close. "One day, Perenelle. We have one day."

Perenelle gently disentangled herself from Nicholas's arms, her face alight with a furious, determined fire. Eyes blazing a ferocious emerald, she curled her lips back in a resolute grin.

"And what a day it will be."


End file.
